


Ecthelion and Glorfindel's Last Stand

by LadyLindariel (Morwen80)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-07-07 05:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwen80/pseuds/LadyLindariel
Summary: Gondolin has been breached and the once hidden city lost. As the remaining inhabitants flee with Idril, Ecthelion and Glorfindel make one last stand, but can they escape in the end. My original story of the Last Stand, now reposted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the original story of the Last Stand. I had deleted it a while ago, but found it in the trash and decided I wanted to repost the original. It is very similar to the revised version.

The Lord of the Fountain, the mighty Ecthelion was trying desperately to keep his mind on the battle at hand. He had no idea how long he and his troops had been fighting, trying in vain to keep the forces of Morgoth at bay. All around him chaos, mayhem, death, and destruction were around. Elves were fleeing the once hidden city of Gondolin as the forces of Morgoth relentlessly attacked. Homes, trees, and buildings burned and all around him bodies of both Elves, Orcs and other fell creatures alike lay dead.

Ecthelion's mind drifted back to right before the siege happened. The residents were gathering to watch the sunset over the mountains as they were celebrating the festival of Tarnin Austa when the enemy came pouring in from all over. His house, The House of the Fountain and the House of the White Wing, which belonged to the king's son in law Tuor fought to keep the enemy from advancing. However, they were swiftly cut down and falling like flies. Ecthelion knew if Tuor stayed, he too would fall so he had told Tuor to leave and get his family out and he would do his best to keep the enemy from breaking through.

As Ecthelion was brought back to the present, he knew he had to get his troops out; this was a battle he could not hope to win, at least not here. "Fall back! We must retreat and regroup ourselves, or we will all die!" His men upon hearing their Captain giving the order to retreat began to flee cutting down orcs, wolves and other fell creatures along the way. Ecthelion himself had already cut down two balrogs, mighty fire demons who had once been fair Maiar but were seduced by Morgoth.

Ecthelion was now almost home free. As he continued slashing his way through, every so often finding a lone elf hiding in terror and helping them to escape he could feel himself losing stamina. He didn't know how much longer he could continue at this grueling pace. He had to get to the Fountain of the King, for the water that ran in there could replenish the strength of anyone who drank from it, but before he was able to reach the passageway that would lead him to it, another balrog reared its ugly head and began to assault Ecthelion. Both fought, steel upon steel, fury against fury. Eventually, he was able to defeat the mighty Balrog with a quick blow with his sword but not before he had received a great wound to his left arm by its fiery whip.

Wrapping his arm Ecthelion continued to fight, knowing full well he would probably not live to see another day, but that no longer mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was to make sure that as many Elves escaped as possible, even if it cost him his life. On he kept fighting trying frantically to reach the Square of the King, but the creatures just kept coming. Just as it looked as if he was going to meet his end he heard a war cry heading his way: it was Tuor!

With fire in his eyes, Tuor began to single-handedly strike down the creatures of Morgoth sending most of them fleeing in a hasty retreat. When he got to Ecthelion, he found his friend was severely weakened and seriously injured. "Mellon-nín, are you able to stand? We must retreat now, Gondolin is lost. The vast majority are dead; the rest are fleeing with Idril to the secret tunnel." Tuor bent down and helped Ecthelion up supporting him.

"Ai, I can stand, but I cannot fight anymore, I am too weak. Perhaps if I can get to the Square of the King and drink from the fountain, I can regain most of my strength." Tuor nodded and helped Ecthelion make his way to the Fountain of the King, for there the remaining leaders were waiting.

When they arrived, they were greeted by the surviving leaders and Tuor, and Glorfindel helped him to the Fountain. Ecthelion proceeded to drink from the Fountain feeling the cold, refreshing water slide down his parched throat and flow through his veins. As it did so, he could instantly feel his vigor return, and he was able to fight once again. As Tuor, Ecthelion, Glorfindel, and the remaining leaders were discussing what they should now do; they were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and the thunderous flapping of dragons. They knew they had run out of time. They now had only two choices: they either stayed and fought, which more than likely would lead them to their deaths, or they fled with the rest of the survivors and made their way towards Idril's secret tunnel and then make their way out of Gondolin.

As the encroaching enemies made their way closer, Ecthelion turned and gave the order for them to retreat, as they made their withdrawal, they noticed that Ecthelion was not following. Tuor confused as to why Ecthelion was not following motioned for him to follow. Ecthelion waved his hands and told him to flee. It was pointless for all of them to die, but before Tuor and the others could respond they heard a terrible roar and the thrashing of a whip, as Ecthelion turned around, he was met with the terrifying presence of the most feared balrog of all: Gothmog.


	2. Chapter 2

Ecthelion's face turned ashen as he saw the Lord of the Balrogs burst through to the Square of the King. Behind him, several dragons, wolves, and orcs made their way in to finish taking down the rest of the inhabitants of Gondolin. They were given orders to allow none to escape and they were going to make sure none survived.

As the remainder of the warriors who were led by both Glorfindel and Ecthelion began to duel, they gave strict orders to Tuor to get Idril, along with his son and to evacuate Gondolin. Tuor started to protest, but upon seeing the look on Ecthelion's face that left no room for arguing, he fled the Square to find his family. He could only hope that the others would fare well and that they would be reunited in the end.

Gothmog gave the orders to the other foul beasts to engage with the others, but they were to leave Ecthelion to him. At once the battle commenced. Glorfindel and a number of the other warriors were tied up fighting the other opponents while Ecthelion began a fierce one on one battle with Gothmog.

Ecthelion had no sense of time, all he knew was that this was now a battle of the fittest. He was looking death in the face with every parry, every blow of his sword against his. He was not even aware of the others fighting around him. Ecthelion dodged Gothmog's mighty whip several times, and just when he thought he was gaining the upper hand and was going to win Gothmog took his whip and snatched his sword Orcrist clean out of his hand. Ecthelion could have sworn he heard Gothmog laugh and just as Gothmog was going to deal the death blow, Ecthelion leaped up and drove the spike of his helmet clean into his chest. Gothmog screeched in pain, and as he fell to his death in the Fountain of the King, he took Ecthelion with him and fell on him where they both met their fate.

Glorfindel was busy engaging in a duel with a giant wolf when he heard Ecthelion scream out a curse to Gothmog. Distracted he turned just as he saw his best friend impale himself into the mighty balrog's chest. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he saw the balrog fall with Ecthelion, crashing into the fountain with Ecthelion underneath him. Glorfindel could not believe what he just witnessed: the death of his best friend. He had no time even to react as he suddenly felt the sharp searing pain of fangs embed themselves into his forearm. Screaming in pain, he somehow had managed to release his arm from the beast's mouth and cut the head clean off it. As he tried to slow the bleeding, another leader Egalmoth stormed in with a bunch of survivors and told him to leave and make for the secret tunnel. Glorfindel acknowledged and motioned for the terrified Elves to follow him.

Glorfindel hurriedly led them down many passageways dodging falling buildings and trying to make their way through the dense smoke that encased them. Every so often Glorfindel would run into orcs or other foul beasts, and he would have to stop and take them down. They were getting closer when he happened to come across a group of terrified Elves huddled together in a corner. Glorfindel gestured for them to follow him and the others quickly as he could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps of many orcs who had started following the fleeing Elves. When they had resumed their flight for safety and was coming to the secret way that would hopefully lead them to safety Glorfindel had no idea about the battle that he was soon going to be faced with.


	3. Chapter 3

Onward Glorfindel led the remaining survivors that had not managed to flee with Idril. They were fast approaching the dark passageway that would lead them to the secret tunnel. Fortunately, they had not run into anymore fell creatures and the damage and smoke in this remote area were not nearly as severe as it was mere moments ago. "We are almost there, just hang in there for a few minutes more!" Glorfindel said as he rounded a corner that led to the tunnel entrance.

Finally, Glorfindel met up with Idril, Tuor, their son and the last remnants of the once mighty kingdom of Gondolin. Glorfindel held the rear while the other's made their way forward out of the remains of Gondolin. They may have escaped the most dangerous part of the attack, but Glorfindel knew full well that they were not out of danger yet, and if he didn't hold the rear, then the citizens would be open and vulnerable to any attack that would appear.

Eventually, after a long trek through the passageway, they emerged, and the evacuees found themselves entering Cirith Thoronath, an extremely treacherous pass, that was only accessible by walking along a narrow ledge. On the west side was a deep abyss and on the east side was a steep overhang and if one were not careful they would meet an untimely death. It was here that the surviving Gondolindrim were ambushed. For behind Glorfindel appeared a mighty Balrog and in front of Idril and the others were confronted by a massive troop of Orcs.

The Orcs upon seeing that the escapees were trapped with nowhere to go began to advance on them. Behind them, the Balrog was closing in. Just as they thought all was lost Thorondor, the King of the Eagles swooshed down with his Eagles and began to drive of the Orcs, many of them falling into the abyss below. Glorfindel then seized this chance and faced the Balrog head on allowing Idril and the others to make their escape.

Glorfindel fought with the Balrog, evading the fiery beast's attacks. It was almost like a dance, one would lead, and the other would follow. Glorfindel would lunge, and the Balrog would parry and vice versa. It went on like this for what seemed like hours when during one attack the Balrog fumbled, and Glorfindel seized this opportunity to stab the Balrog in his gut. The beast let out a terrifying scream of pain and fell over the edge of the abyss. Glorfindel sighed when he saw it fall and turned to catch up with the others, but just as he began to make his escape, the Balrog in one final act of defiance flicked his whip and grabbing his golden hair, pulled Glorfindel down over the edge of the precipice. Glorfindel had no time to react; he didn't even have time to curse himself for his stupidity at turning his back on his enemy before making sure it was dead.

As he fell, darkness swept all around him. So this was how he would meet his end. Falling into nothingness, crashing to a rocky pile of jagged rocks where his body would break on impact. More than likely he would be left there to rot with no one to even give him a proper burial. Would he even be remembered? Would anyone even come back to look for his remains? All these questions ran through his mind as he fell along with glimpses of his past. Mistakes that plagued his mind. If only he had never joined in the rebellion and left the safety of Valinor. No, he knew that his death had saved innocent lives, even if they were few. He knew that right now Tuor, Idril and their young son Eärendil were now safe and that because of that their son would hopefully be able to fulfill his destiny that would help rid Middle Earth of Morgoth. For that piece of mind, his death was worth it. He only hoped that when his fëa entered Mandos Halls, he could find peace and healing and then possibly he would be able to ask for forgiveness. He smiled at the thought, and before his body made impact with the rocks below, he cried out. "Valar forgive me." Then everything went black. Glorfindel, the Lord of the Golden Flower, the last defender of Gondolin, was dead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Epilogue**

Far above the rocky bottom from where the fallen Elf Lord was lying, his broken body sprawled and lifeless Thorondor had seen the whole battle take place. The great Eagle swore to himself for not being able to get to Glorfindel in time to aid him. If only he had got to him in time, Glorfindel would not have fallen to his death. No matter, Thorondor might not have been able to save him from his death, but he would not just leave his body to decay and share a rocky grave with the one who had led him to his demise.

Thorondor with his mind made up swooped down and gracefully with one swipe of his giant talons, picked up the body of the fallen warrior and carried him up out of the dark abyss. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: a decent place in the pass to bury him. Thorondor buried the fallen hero with a mound of stones. It was here that Glorfindel was laid to rest in his final resting place. It is also said that on that mound grew yellow flowers despite the location. Here the great warrior would fall into song and legend until many hundreds of years later he would be released from Mandos Halls and return to Middle-earth to aid Eärendil's son, Lord Elrond and to help rid Middle-earth from another dark lord: the vile servant of Morgoth, Sauron.

* * *

***** I was not sure exactly how to end this chapter. I wanted to give a glimpse of the future with Glorfindel eventually continuing to help aid the family of Tuor and continuing his fight against the evil of Morgoth.


End file.
